homesick for the familiar
by dark raven0
Summary: even the coldest are capable of feeling homesick for the familiar [oneshot, kopaka centric]


Disclaimer: I don't own bionicle. sheesh.

please note before reading this, that the time period in which this takes place is a good one or two hundred years after the matoran return to metru nui. otherwise you would be wondering about some of these things. Reviews are greatly apprciated.

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Kopaka walked along the streets of Ko-metru, patrolling the indefinitely silent metru, just as he had done in Ko-Koro; his home.

Ice toa are known for their silent and stoic personalities. Their ability to never be too attached to something, or someone; their ability to never be attached at all; their ability to move on without regret; their ability not to feel. He should not be feeling this, this longing. This cursed longing for something. He should have let go a long time ago. He should not be longing for that island, more specifically, that island called Mata-Nui.

Here, it was silent, as silent as a grave. As much as he hated to admit it, this metru, with all its cold, impersonal silence unnerved him. No distant avalanches, no sound of quiet, hushed voices bouncing off the crystal ice of ko-koro, no sound of snow crunching beneath his feet as he walked through the area, no sound of the harsh, cold breeze that usually whistled through the air leaving you breathless. No, none of that, just deafening, never-ending, imperdible silence. Everything is muted here. The wind blowing, towers creaking, footsteps falling, it is all muted into a nothingness of silence.

Toa of ice should love the silence. After all, that was how they lived their entire lives, silent. However, he had never noticed how much noise he usually heard.

It was to unnaturally cold here. No satisfyingly sharp wind hitting you straight on with cold. Just unnaturally still air with nothing to account for the frigid, sub-zero temperatures. Everything was cold in Ko-metru. The air, the buildings, the ground, none of it with any reason. Even when the twin suns shone down from their highest point in the sky, no temperature change occurred, not even by one or two degrees. Ice toa should love the cold; after all, they were the essence of cold. They lived in it, breathed it, and felt it, twenty-four seven. Kopaka loved the cold. Nevertheless, there was something fake in it all. It was just there, a sitting, unmovable boulder of icy coldness. The climate was one of those temperature-controlled environments. Perfect in every aspect, but fake. Without the wind, with the suns shining down, it should have been warmer. However, it wasn't. Kopaka had checked. He had tested it. Moreover, when he could not for the life of him, find an answer; he had gone to Turaga Nuju. All Nuju did though, was glance at him, tell him it was "natural" and return to work.

It was like living in a maze. The surrounding structures and knowledge towers all looked the same. The buildings had no personal touches added to them. They were all the same mold. Grey walls, grey doors, and grey window finishing's. The knowledge towers were, if anything else, worse. They to, had that comes in one size feel to them. Covering half the metru, they stood, tall, impersonal, proud, and uncaring while sunlight glittered down on their protruding spikes. The streets were all the same, grey and white, clear of any small molecule of dirt or trash. Perfect. As a toa of Ice, he should enjoy the lack of clutter. Kopaka did. However, this was to the extreme. If you took a quick overview of the metru, you would think it was deserted. There would be no clue of inhabitance there. Ko-metru was a clean, sanitary box, a box with military straight sides and dividers, contents lined up to the exact millimeter of perfection, everything a dull but perfect shade of grey or white.

The Ko-metru matoran were the picture of well-disciplined citizens. They never left work without a good reason, or correct documentation. When they traveled the streets, none would stop to chat with friends; they just kept going. They all walked with perfect, clipped steps. When they came to their destination, they always wiped nonexistent mud from their feet onto the perfectly clean doormat that was always set out. They were always diligent about their work, for indeed, they loved what they did. They were always correct in everything. They were always well behaved. As an ice toa, he should be proud of his matoran. He was. No matoran of another metru could best a ko-matoran in perfection of what they did.

Ko-metru was perfect in every aspect. Ko-metru was superior to ko-koro. Ko-metru however, was a vault of sorts. Its lock, keeping the inside safe, was unpick able, its sides were thick and complex, successfully keeping out intruders, and the inside of the vault was climate controlled, its still coolness never wavering. Its contents were neatly organized in drawers, always in the correct spot. This vault, dressed in grey and white was imperdible.

Ko-koro was far from perfect. Wind constantly bit into your face, whether you are inside or outside the icy glacier that played host to the village of ko-koro. It was constantly noisy with the sound of voices echoing through walls, the wind howling, and the snow crunching whenever somebody walked. The buildings were anything but organized, built into any crevice of ice that was found to be big enough to stick a house or building in, so twisting, you could get lost in the labyrinth. The matoran were nice enough, but could choose to hurl scathing insults at you any time of the day if they thought you were being slow or dumb.

Although Ko-metru was any ice toa's paradise of law and order, when compared with ko-koro, Kopaka would have picked the less superior of the two.

Ice toa are renowned for their stoic silence and uncaring, but even the coldest are capable of feeling homesick for the familiar at times in their life.

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please r&r, I want to know what you think about it, thanks a bunch in advance! 


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